


Pink

by babynovak05



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Happy Husbands, M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 07:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15287061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babynovak05/pseuds/babynovak05
Summary: Gregory ruins the laundry but Mycroft doesn't mind.





	Pink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Freebirdflying](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freebirdflying/gifts).



> This is for Freebirdflyingforever, I'm so sorry that this didn't get posted the other day. But Happy Birthday my dear I hope it was a good one!

"Gregory I'm home," Mycroft called as walked through the threshold of their shared home. He quickly discarded his jacket, hanging it neatly on the peg. He placed his umbrella in its holder and left his suitcase on the floor by the door. As soon as Mycroft rounded the corner of their sitting room a waft of baked goods filled his nostrils. Greg is baking, something is wrong. His husband had the evening off, it was much needed on his part. The Yard has been working his poor husband into the ground, he deserved this much needed break.

Mycroft's stomach twisted with worry as he made his way into the kitchen. Greg was facing the oven and an apron was tied around his waist. Greg's muscles flexed as he used the wooden spoon to vigorously stir the batter. He was wearing an old t shirt and ratty jeans; his feet were bare. Laundry day, Mycroft mentally added.  
"Gregory?" Mycroft said carefully his loafers softly clicking on the tile floor as he approached his husband.

"Hmm?" Greg hummed not turning his attention away from his overly stirred batter. 

"I believe the batter is properly stirred love," Mycroft said, placing a hand on his husband's shoulder. Greg stopped stirring and shoved the bowel away. Mycroft could feel the tension in his husband’s shoulder, his hand moved in small reassuring circles.

"Talk to me, what is the matter?" Mycroft pressed, genuinely concerned.

"I... screwed up," Greg huffed out, gripping the counter with both hands. "I know you're very particular about the washings up and the laundry but," Greg paused as he glanced over at his lover. "We have a perfectly good washing machine here." Greg threw his hand out in the direction of the washing machine.

Greg was right. Mycroft had never used the machine, he'd always been too busy and had Anthea to make sure his dry cleaning was done and a service came by to pick up others.  
“I never minded doing the laundry…I enjoyed it as a matter of fact, good stress relief,” Greg shrugged his shoulders letting out a sigh. “So I tossed some clothes in and…well I ruined something.” Mycroft’s mind raced as he looked into his husband’s whiskey brown eyes. Of course Gregory was smart enough to not throw his expensive suits into the simple machine.

“I’m sure it’s not as of a big deal as your making it out to be Gregory,” Mycroft said, leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to the D.I’s lips. “I’m going to change, finish up here then you can tell me.” Mycroft cupped his husband’s cheek, his thumb caressing over the smooth skin under Greg’s eye. He pressed another kiss to his husband’s lips before pulling away completely and moving through there home to the bedroom.

As Mycroft changed out of his suit Greg pulled the freshly baked cookies from the oven then covered up the batter he had just made and put it in the fridge. He wiped his hands on his apron before taking it off and placing it on its hook by the pantry. As he waited for his husband he took to hot cookies off the pan and placed them gently onto a serving platter. Dark chocolate chip cookies, Mycroft’s favorite. He hoped that the cookies would make up for what he had ruined. He dumped the dirty pots and pans into the sink, hoping he would get to do them later.  
Mycroft appeared back into the kitchen wearing his beige dressing grown, a smile on his lips. 

“So Gregory, tell me what you have ruined?” He asked as he walked over to the table where the cookies sat cooling. Greg moved over the the fridge and poured his husband a tall glass of milk then reached out and handed to him. Mycroft took the glass as he bit into a cookie, suppressing his groan.  
“I was washing my old rugby jersey along with other very soiled clothing and…and,” Greg paused as he rubbed his palm over his face. “I didn’t realize that something had gotten into the load that wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Mycroft finished his first cookie and drank nearly half of the milk as he listened to his husband’s story.

“You’re…you’re favorite pair of boxers,” Greg said softly looking away. “You know the ones with the little umbrellas on them. I’m sorry Myc…I should’ve paid more attention.”  
Mycroft put down his now empty class of milk and walked over to his husband. 

“I’m not upset Gregory, accidents happen,” he said, placing his hands on Greg’s shoulders. “Take my dressing gown off, please.”

Greg looked at Mycroft, confused, eyebrows raised. “Go on, Gregory,” Mycroft encouraged. Greg didn’t have to be asked again to undress his husband, so he grabbed the neatly tied knot and pulled it loose then pushed the dressing gown open and off Mycroft’s shoulders. Once the dressing gown was off Mycroft took a step back broad smile on his lips, he was wearing his favorite boxers. But now instead of bright white they were stained a dull pink, the blue and green umbrellas seeming to pop out against the pink. 

“I seen them shoved under your pillow,” Mycroft said. “I decided to show you that I’m not mad, and I very much appreciate you. Even if your ruin my laundry.”  
Gregory couldn’t help but smile and his eyes grazed over Mycroft, taking every inch of his milky skin. “Well come over here, let me thank you properly for the cookies,” Mycroft purred as he wiggled his finger towards Greg.

Greg stepped forward wrapped his arms around Mycroft and kissed him deeply. Mycroft easily walked them backwards to their bed. He smiled against his husband’s lips, maybe he should ruin the laundry and bake more often.


End file.
